


Genius

by Mcwarr



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angry Sex, Angst, Bottom Niall, Feelings, Fluff, Genius Harry, Genius Niall, Geniuses, Love/Hate, M/M, Mean Harry, Porn With Plot, Top Harry, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 05:04:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5444300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mcwarr/pseuds/Mcwarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry didn’t know exactly why, but he absolutely loathed the blonde boy that always sat next to him in his Sociology II class. </p><p>
  <strong>OR</strong>
</p><p> Harry and Niall are both geniuses, yet Harry’s still having a really hard time figuring Niall out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Genius

**Author's Note:**

> narrystoranwritings.tumblr.com

Harry didn’t know exactly why, but he absolutely loathed the blonde boy that always sat next to him in his Sociology II class.

Sure, he was charming and beautiful and lovely and kind, but Harry still hated him. He was flirty with just about everyone, and he talked a lot and he was Harry’s top contender when it came to class rank.

Harry wasn’t used to competition. Running from his high school with a high 5.6 GPA, the brunette wasn’t used to being threatened by someone academically.

And this guy didn’t even look smart. Granted, Harry wasn’t your typical, hair-slicked-back, big-round-glasses type nerd, but at least he somewhat played the part of the pretentious, genius loner.

This blonde kid, Niall, is his stupid name, was all smiles and giggles and brazen, bold manner. He walked in without a worry in his mind the first day, assessing his options for a moment before excitedly plopping down next to Harry, ignoring the taller boy’s glare.

People only sat with him when they wanted to cheat off of his tests.

Anyway, Niall introduced himself with a friendly handshake and a alluring smile– one Harry was sure worked on all of the ladies. But Harry continued to ignore the boy, he learned early on that being blatantly rude often turned people off quickly. But, of course, not with Niall.

Niall liked the challenge. He liked annoying Harry with friendly gestures like asking how Harry’s day had been, snuggling up close to him in his chair when he would whisper a question or maybe a pun or two into the green-eyed boy’s ear, and, the best, congratulating Harry on all of the 100% he racked up in this “simple” class.

One time, Harry had gotten a 99%, something ground-breaking for him; heartbreaking, even. He had gone through the test, sure that there was a mistake, eyes wide and petrified as he saw the one, minuscule casualty that cost him an entire point. And of course, Niall took that exact moment to say, “Wow, congrats, Haz! You always do so well in this class!”

And Harry had never glared so hard in his life. Because Harry always saw the worst in people first. He perceived Niall’s words as patronizing and teasing, hurtful, even though the blonde himself also had a 99%, and had missed the same question

But honestly, that’s just the type of person Niall is. He chats old ladies at the bus stop even though he doesn’t ride the bus. He opens doors for both girls, and other boys, as well for anyone in between. He was accepting and loving to pretty much anyone who crossed his path, and he wasn’t used to people not liking him.

Which is why Harry intrigued him.

The first day, the brunette wouldn’t even look at him, let alone shake his hand. When Niall had asked if Harry was alright with Niall sitting there the boy grunted unhappily, “Just don’t cheat off me. I won’t hesitate to report you.”

Niall didn’t feel offended, even though he probably should. Everybody thought he was an idiot. Niall supposed it had something to do with how he looked like some ditzy, socialite blonde who barely knows his arse from his face.

Which– yeah, is partially true.

Niall isn’t quite sure how he got put into all advanced placement classes in high school. He’s not sure how he passed all of his GCSE’s with flying colors at the early age of 15, but he’s gotten used to it now. He doesn’t pay attention in class (he’s too busy flirting with Harry), and he doesn’t really study (he’s too busy sleeping or eating) but he seems to be doing just fine.

“Running late today, Mr. Horan?” Mr. Malik, their extremely attractive, extremely cool Sociology teacher asks with an amused grin at the flustered, panting boy in his doorway.

Niall catches on to his humorous demeanor quickly, grinning right back, “What? Me, late? What would give you that idea?” He asked, skipping to sit next to his wonderful desk parter who was eating a wonderful scowl on his beautifully carved out face.

Mr. Malik rolls his eyes, and Harry follows with the same gesture. He’s tired of Niall’s constant, obvious flirting with their teacher.

He’s seen Niall’s grades. There’s no way that the ADHD, beauty queen from some ratty old town in Ireland is getting those grades on his own. He just… he didn’t like Niall. Right, that’s what it was. He hates that the blonde doesn’t even bother to hide it. The way he stares at Mr. Malik like he’s some model– which, okay, he could be, but Harry doesn’t care.

He realizes that halfway through the lesson, he hasn’t even paid attention. Which is bad, seeing as it’s a review day for their exam in a couple of weeks. He was too busy glaring at Mr. Malik’s stupid face.

Mr. Malik dismisses the students an hour later, and Harry rushes to get out as soon as possible so he can avoid the situation that always occurs after class.

He makes it out of the room without a disturbance, maybe for the first time ever but– “Hey, Harry, wait up!” he can hear the annoying little fairy yell from behind him. He stops in his tracks, and takes a deep breath.

_‘No, Harry, murder is wrong.’_

“Hey Harry!” Niall calls enthusiastically.

“What, Niall?” Harry answers blandly. He’s been trying so hard to prove to Niall that he’s no fun– that he isn’t worth the extreme effort that this blonde is putting in to trying to be his friend. So many vile words are always on the tip of his tongue when it comes to Niall, and honestly, he’s afraid if he spends to much time with the blonde, a couple may slip out.

And yeah, he’s a jerk, but he’s not sure if he wants to be labeled as the asshole who tore down the nicest guy in school.

Niall grins despite Harry’s bored tone. “I was wondering if you wanted to–”

“No.” Harry shuts him down instantly, and groans inwardly as he doesn’t see the usual look of rejection float over Niall’s face as it usually does to Harry’s other victims.

“But-”

“No.” Harry repeats, resolute and stoic in his words.

Niall sighs, finally letting his smile slip into a frown. Harry inwardly smirked. Maybe the blonde would finally give up.

Harry turns on his heel, walking away from the dejected looking blonde with a smug, vicious smile on his face until he hears a faint call, “You will learn to love me, Styles! Just you wait!”

Harry scoffed indignantly as he turned the corner.

As if.

* * * *

“What put you in such a bad mood?” Louis, Harry’s moronic roommate asks as he walks through the door of their accommodated flat.

Harry wasn’t even sure how the kid had gotten in to this school– although he was sure it had something to do with the Tomlinson name alone. Or maybe the money. Probably both.

Rich and immature, Louis Tomlinson wasn’t Harry’s kind of guy.

But, really, who was?

Harry grunts uncomfortably from his place on the kitchen stool and glares at the brown haired boy. “That freak that sits next to me in Sociology.” He replies and Louis rolls his eyes. He’s heard this before.

“Niall is a really nice guy, Harry. I don’t know why you don’t like him.”

Harry scowls angrily. “You would say that.”

Louis squawks, offended. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re both annoying and you’re both loud and-” _-and you both don’t belong here._ “You just– no.” Harry stops himself.

“You know, Harry, you’re not a very nice person.” Louis comments, not really hurt by Harry’s usual rudeness.

Harry shrugs. “Most geniuses aren't.”

“Niall isn’t.” Louis points out, and Harry wants to strangle him again.

“Niall is _not_ a genius.” He growls, gripping the pencil in his hand even tighter, so hard he can hear the wood creaking in agony under his fingers.

Louis smirks, noticing Harry’s reaction, “Then how come you both have the exact same grades?” He teases and the pencil in Harry’s hand snaps.

“Because he’s fucking the teacher, obviously!” He all but roars and Louis’ eyes widen, teasing over. He’s seen Harry get mad, sure, but it was usually just a quick slam of his bedroom door, or the silent treatment for a couple of days.

Louis is quiet for a minute before letting out a confused breath. “You have to be really careful with allegations like that, Harry. That’s really messed up and cruel and it could really fuck up some people’s lives.” He says, for once allowing wisdom to leave his mouth before walking to the door and leaving their flat, giving Harry some time to feel guilty.

(He really doesn’t feel that guilty, though.)

* * * *

Their next class is a week later and Harry has had a really bad day. First, he learned that his sister was moving to America for a job offer and he wouldn’t be able to come home and see her because his exams were just now beginning to loom over him. Then, his cat ran away and it took him several tears, a sore throat and two days to find that the little rascal was hiding under the couch the entire time. In addition to that, he had broken things off with a fuck buddy just at the beginning of the day, but was already starting to feel the loneliness and annoyance that came with sex withdrawal. And of course, to top it all off, in a very cliche way, some idiot had spilled his piping hot cup of black coffee all over Harry and his favorite jeans this morning.

Which is probably why his attitude is about thirteen times worse than it usually is, and he feels like he’s one step away from throwing someone (particularly a small, easily manhandled, blonde kid) off of a treacherous cliff. The blonde is humming today, something he does often, and following Mr. Malik’s every move so tentatively, Harry wants to shove the boy to the front and tell them to just get it over with a fuck in front of the class already, since they seemingly want to be so open about their relationship.

Maybe, _maybe_ Harry’s taking it a bit too far, but he’s seriously annoyed and angry right now– and as for the fucking thing, he hadn’t had sex in a while, okay?

He leaves the lesson as quickly as possible, but he knows Niall won’t leave him alone. He didn’t want to do this, but at this point, with everything going on in his life, he feels the need to let off some steam. And who better to take it out on than the stupid blonde that had been asking for it since day one?

Forgoing his usual deep breaths and deciding to just tell Niall how he really feels, Harry walks slowly away from the door, counting down the seconds, 1… 2… 3…-

“Hey Harry!”

Harry turns on a heel, suddenly excited.

“Harry, I was wondering if…” Niall looks up when the brunette doesn’t interrupt him as always, jaw dropping as he takes in Harry’s happy look, “… if, you’d like to study with me, you know, for the exam.” He offers and Harry laughs.

He flat out laughs in Niall’s face, so hard he thinks he may cry.

He sputters, “Me?? Me… study… with _you_?” By now he’s laughing so hard his stomach hurts.

Niall, suddenly feeling extremely embarrassed, as well as a bit uncomfortable, looks around self-consciously, trying to keep the ground beneath his feet. “Um, yes? We’re the top students in the class, so I thought-”

He’s cut off by another fit of laughter peeling from Harry. There’s something malicious, evil in Harry’s bellows of laughter– nothing like the deep, hearty chuckles Niall had previously imagined for the taller boy. “We? Oh ,Niall. _we_ are not the top students.” He says, laughter fading away as a more serious look settles on his face.

Niall looks confused, “Well, who is, then?” He asks, feeling more timid than Harry’s ever seen him and Harry knows it’s time– time to end what the blonde had started at the beginning of the semester.

“I am, Niall. I am the top student in the class. There’s no way that I can comprehend you as my competition! Me, the top of my high school class, accepted into Harvard, Yale, and Princeton and worked to do all of this on my own! Against what? The pretty boy from Ireland who gets his grades by bending over for the teacher? Yeah right.” Harry spits and Niall looks absolutely shocked.

Harry leans away with a grim, satisfied look on his face, not noticing the several people who had stopped to watch the pairs “conversation.”

Meanwhile, Niall’s head os reeling. Never in the blonde boy’s life had someone said such malicious, terrible things to him. As they sink in, the words really sink in, Niall’s eyes well up with tears. He can’t look at Harry, he can’t believe the green-eyed boy thought so little of him– that he could accuse him of such a nasty act. He turns his back to Harry, just as the brunette has done to him a multitude of times, and walks away without looking back.

Harry’s chest is heaving and he doesn’t feel relieved like he thought he would. Why isn’t he happy? He hates Niall, why doesn’t it make him happy to yell and scream all of his feelings out?

Face red and hands shaking, Harry looks around at the small crowd of surprised onlookers. They quickly disperse, but Harry can already hear the rumors beginning to bubble up.

He feels like a teenager who just told his parents he hated them just because they wouldn’t let him go to a party. He feels rash and stupid and he feels like a jerk.

He begins to walk back to his dorm, shuffling towards the tube with his head down, feeling like he deserved to walk home in the pouring rain.

As he finally gets to the cover of the underground, he sighs, running a hand over his face, knowing what he has to do.

He won’t be able to look at himself in the mirror until he apologizes.

* * * *

“Louis, I need your help.” Harry grumbles, feeling embarrassed as he calls for his roommate.

Louis raises his eyebrows, intrigued. “Do you, now?” He hums, and Harry rolls his eyes.

“Oh, sod off, Louis, I need to know where Niall’s flat is.” He grunts and Louis perks up.

“Why, have you finally figured it out?” He asks excitedly, and Harry gives him a confused look, making Louis deflate. “Oh, no? Then… Oh, no Harry.” He mumbles, “You _didn’t…_ ”

Harry instantly glues his eyes to the ground, unsure of how Louis had been able to catch on so quickly. “I just.. I need to apologize to him for something.” He answers vaguely and Louis looks so disappointed he feels like he did the first time his mother caught glimpse of his first tattoo.

Louis sighs, looking conflicted. “You swear, you’re going to be kind and apologize like a decent person instead of hurt his feelings even more?”

Harry nods, feeling hurt that Louis would even think that of him. Then again, what reason had he given his roommate to think otherwise?

* * * *

The thing is, Harry isn’t a mean person.

He really doesn’t go out of his way to be rude to others and he’s never been one to confront another human just to belittle them and hurt their feelings. But, for some reason, the blonde boy just… irked him. He didn’t like him. He didn’t like him, he didn’t like him.

He just _didn’t_ like him.

At least, that’s what he’s convincing himself as he tries to think up a viable apology. _‘Hey Niall… i wanted to say that i’m sorry for being mea not you today, but i had good reason– i just really don’t like you.’_

Because that would go over so well.

He runs a hand through his messy hair and goes to knock on the door and is almost instantly met with a burly, muscular looking guy with biceps bigger than Harry’s face.

“Oh, sorry mate, I was just leaving.” The guy says as he realizes he scared Harry a bit. “Do you need something?”

“Um, yeah, I’m looking for Niall?” He asks, feeling much smaller than he usually does.

The guy looks thoughtful for a minute. “He’s.. he’s kind of busy right now, I can tell him you came by though. What’s your name?” He asks and Harry sighs, knowing that Niall won’t be happy to hear that he’s come by.

“Harry.” He murmurs and the guys head jerks up, obviously recognizing the name as he suddenly glares at the brunette murderously.

“Oh.” He grunts and Harry really really hopes this guy doesn’t beat him into the ground.

He looks Harry up and down, assessing him quietly. “Are you here to apologize?” He asks, and Harry nods quickly. “Then yeah, you need to do that.” He allows Harry in one step before cutting him off with a huge hand to the chest. “If I hear that anything else happens in there that isn’t an apology, you’re going to be worrying less about Niall’s grades and more about your broken legs.” He warns, quite seriously.

Harry nods, agreeing instantly, sliding past the huge man in the door way and making his way to the white door with a white board on it, where “N I A L L” is drawn in large letters, a small stick person with a guitar and blonde hair doodled in the corner.

Harry’s heart is beating out of his chest as he knocks on the door and there’s a gravely voice responding, “Li, I thought you left?” Niall calls, and suddenly, the door opens.

“He…” The words die on Niall’s lips as he takes in the figure in front of him. Harry is leaned up against the frame of the door, forehead resting on his arm as his head nearly brushes the top of the door.

Niall inwardly sighs at the sight of the guy, curly brown hair and tight, tight skinny jeans. Niall wishes he wasn’t so attracted to the only guy who obviously hates him.

“Niall,” Harry greets, voice shaky and uneven as he greets the disheveled looking blonde whose hair is flat against his forehead and eyes red rimmed. He begins to feel even worse, even though the sight of the messy looking blonde is somewhat pleasing to him. “Niall, I wanted to talk to you,” He elaborates quickly, hoping Niall doesn’t slam the door in his face.

Surprisingly to Harry, but not to anyone who truly knows Niall, the blonde lets him in instantly, and hops on to his bed, waiting for an explanation of sorts. 

Harry steps into the room hesitantly. “I just– I don’t know why I’m such a jerk to you, Niall. I regret everything I said and I know, deep down, that you aren’t sleeping with Mr. Malik, but there’s just– you piss me off.” Harry admits and, _shit_ , that wasn’t right. “I mean, fuck!” He curses, covering his face in his hands. “I’m such shit at apologizing. I just– I just like you, okay?!” He says loudly, flinching once more because– wait.

He left out the don’t?

Shit. Shit.

Niall’s eyes are wide in confusion too, but Harry can’t take it back.

_Because it’s true._

Shit.

“You– you like me?” Niall stammers, looking pretty and small and his mouth is pouting in confusion and Harry just–

Harry just grabs him, lifting the blonde up by the arms and pulling him into a passionate, near-violent kiss. Harry’s so busy grabbing at niall’s shirt, trying to get closer to the blonde that he barely notices Niall gripping at his hair, leaning into Harry’s space and allowing the taller boy to have dominance as he begins to intensify their kiss. Not separating for a moment except to take short, gasps of breath, the two move quickly towards Niall’s bed, where Harry pushes the blonde to the comforter, expertly crawling on top of the dazed irish boy.

Harry grins at the sight beneath him, the smaller blonde wheezing with bright pink cheeks and closed eyes, arms out ready for whatever Harry had planned for him. Harry slides an arm under Niall’s prone body, hiking his shirt up so he can get closer to the flawless, perfect pale skin hidden underneath. He skates his hands across Niall’s lower back and stomach teasingly at he bites down the long, untouched column of the boys neck. He’s working on a particularly harsh hickey when Niall stops him.

“Wait, wait.” Niall pants, pushing at Harry’s chest.

The brunette pulls away just a bit, his nose bumping into Niall’s as he sets his lust filled eyes onto the other.

“Wh-why?” He struggles to ask, still gripping onto Harry’s shirt extremely tight, as if he couldn’t stand the idea of Harry backing out right now.

Harry’s brain races with the multitude of things he could say, ‘Because you’re hot and I’m horny?’ that cursed, evil part of his brain snickers but he just shakes his head, deciding it was best to just tell the truth.

“Because I like you.” He admits, awaiting Niall’s reaction. Maybe the blonde would laugh in his face, just as Harry did to him. Maybe he just played along to get Harry to admit it–

“I like you too.” Niall breathes, and Harry realizes: maybe Niall really is just that amazingly kind person that everyone’s been saying he is.

Maybe, for once, Harry was wrong.

Not that he would ever admit it.

He simply grins back at the blonde and kisses him, a bit more sweet this time, a bit more chaste this time.

And it’s cute for a little while its cute as Harry frames Niall’s head with his arms and kisses the boy in tiny pecks and longer, more passionate kisses that leave the two breathless. Its cute until Niall begins to grind up against the brunette, moaning wonton like he’s never been fucked before. He’s hard against Harry’s thigh and he’s totally and completely unaware of just how turned on he’s making Harry.

“Fuck, Niall,” Harry gaps out in a long moan.

Niall grins up at him mischievously. “Top drawer.” he pants excitedly, and if Harry wasn’t so busy rushing for what he was sure was residing in the top drawer, he may have been able to watch Niall quickly peel off his clothes.

Instead, he returns to his previous spot, bottle of lube and condom in hand, and is met with an entirely naked Niall. The blonde has started without him, legs spread at the top of the headboard, palming himself sultrily. “Hurry up, won’t ya?” Niall lits, his Irish accent intense with lust.

Harry doesn’t hesitate, coating his three fingers with the familiar, clear substance. “Are you ready?” He asks sincerely and Niall gives him a genuine smile, nodding before moaning loud as Harry slowly inches one finger into him. Harry smirks, fucking in and out of Niall like it’s second nature and Niall wonders just how much experience Harry has with this. Long, matured fingers just rough enough to pull at his skin– inside of him– Niall shudders, another moan wracking his body.

Harry thanks the heavens that Niall’s friend isn’t home. He’s almost afraid that the neighbors know what’s happening in here. “Harry!” Niall calls, exasperated, as he adds another finger, and secretly Harry hopes that the neighbors can hear. He wants everyone to hear the effect he has on the little blonde. Because Niall wants him, not Mr. Malik. Him.

It doesn’t take long for Harry to stretch Niall out. By the time he was three fingers deep, Niall was bouncing back down as well as he possibly could, incoherent words slipping from his mouth like it was his first language.

Harry doesn’t want to rush this. Usually he’s the get-in-quick-and-fuck-then-leave kind of guy, but he thinks that now, with Niall, this may be his favorite part. Watching the extreme range of emotions fluttering across the blonde’s face as he moans and begs and waits for Harry to be done and just fuck him already– it’s definitely his new favorite part.

Harry doesn’t give the blonde any warning before replacing his fingers with his relatively larger dick. it doesn’t go unnoticed by the seemingly dazed blonde. He notices instantly, gasping at the slight pain he felt as Harry first thrust into his well-prepared arse. His eyes roll to the back of his head and Harry slowly begins fucking into his– enemy? Boyfriend?

Harry flips his sweaty hair out of his eyes flippantly, and growls as he grips tighter and tighter into Niall’s ass. There are red marks already forming on his hips and the purple-blue bruises he left behind earlier are not helping Harry’s attempt to not come early.

Niall whimpers uncontrollably, yelling Harry’s name like a prayer at this point, “Harry! _Fuck!_ Oh, god, Harry!” He squeals and the tears pricking at the sides of his eyes are what sets Harry off.

“ _Mine_ , Niall, you’re fucking mine, yeah?” He growls out and Niall is nodding vigorously, agreeing instantly. Harry doesn’t even think he knows what he’s agreeing to, but at this point, it’s all over.

Niall comes first, hard and with the loudest scream yet, and to be completely fair, Harry follows seconds after. Harry groans out as he comes like he hasn’t in weeks, allowing his head to drop down onto Niall’s shoulder. They’re both sweaty as all hell and panting like they just ran a marathon, but still somewhat conscious as they move into a more comfortable position. It’s kind of like they’re moving in sync, as if they had pre-planned orders or something, how they move without even thinking about it.

Exhausted from the entire day, not to mention their previous activities, the two fall asleep without even meaning to.

* * * *

Harry wakes up cuddling someone.

He hasn’t cuddled anyone since– well, ever. Unless cats count.

There’s a familiar blonde resting his head on Harry’s shoulder, and their legs are tangled together like some kind of maze puzzle that you find on the back of children’s menus. In normal circumstances– the one where it’s been some hellish one night stand and there’s a resounding, pounding headache in his ears, Harry would bolt from this place as quickly as possible, but not this time. This time he stays.

He lies awake for a moment, enjoying the smell of sex and Niall, eyes closed and mind blank as he tries to convince himself this won’t end in terrible, destructive heartbreak.

Niall wakes up a few minutes later with a jolt, smiling softly as he recognizes Harry next to him. “You stayed.” He yawns, sounding surprised.

Harry shrugs. “I told you I liked you, didn’t I?” He teases, truthfulness hiding beneath his smile.

Niall beamed at him, and Harry almost looked away, like sunshine was looking him directly in the face.

“I like you too, Harry.” He admits, pretty blush adorning his cheeks.

Harry grins, kissing Niall even though they were at an awkward angle.

“So… does this mean you’ll study with me for exams?”

**Author's Note:**

> v.v
> 
> I hope you guys liked it, hopefully ill be able to write a bit more than usual during Christmas break, but I can’t promise much :/


End file.
